Don't take Nothin' from Nobody
by Flashback From The Future
Summary: Mags lead a mostly normal life, with normal friends and chores and stuff. But when she is picked for the Seventh Annual Hunger Games, she finds herself in a sealed container with four sadistic maniacs, a talkaholic, a generally creepy boy who likes to eat forks, a boy who has radical political views, 12 other kids, and a bunch of deadly weapons. How will she survive?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

* * *

Mags swung her legs under the dock, watching the sun set.

She sighed and got to her feet, walking barefoot down the wharf, waving at some of the fishermen just coming in with the day's hauls.

The orphanage curfew was 8 o'clock sharp, but Mags knew she could be out later than that on Wednesdays, because Nellie the Nice was on duty, not Frances the She-Devil, but she figured the day before reaping was not the best day to be caught out after curfew. People might start to wonder.

She huffed her annoyance as she wrenched the door of the orphanage open, glaring at Nellie and storming up the stairs to the girl's wing.

Orphanages like the one she lived in were overcrowded in District 4, seeing as the War had killed so many people's parents, and people rarely wanted to adopt children. They already had enough mouths to feed.

She entered the room she shared with three other girls. It was much too small for the four of them, but some of the girls down the hall had five or six roommates.

Her roommates Lila and Julie were comforting her third roommate, Sarah. Sarah had been in hysterics for weeks, just thinking about the possibility she might get picked for the Hunger Games.

Mags joined them on the bed, holding Sarah's hand.

"Sarah, you should really go to sleep." Mags told the younger girl.

"I can't. What if I get picked tomorrow?" Sarah whispered.

It was Sarah's first time actually being eligible for the Games. Mags was going to be fourteen in the summer. Lila and Julie were going to be fifteen in March and July.

"You won't get picked, Sarah." Mags pulled on her pajamas.

"But you could get picked! Or Lila or Julie!" Sarah was practically crying.

"Sarah, just calm down." Mags rubbed her back, and eventually Sarah cried herself to sleep.

Mags was not scared of death. Who would miss her, besides Sarah and Lila and Julie? She was a burden for the orphanage, and the money they spent on Mags could easily be used elsewhere. What would she miss about her life at the Lower District Orphanage? Doing chores? Death was a viable option. But Mags wasn't about to take it until she was ready.

* * *

Mags woke up to a pounding on the door, and the voice of the supervisor, Frances the She-Devil, screaming down the hall about what you were allowed to wear.

"I hate this dress!" Lila whispered, pulling on a red summer dress. It was a rule in the orphanage ladies were to dress 'properly' on Reaping Day. Meaning, they had to wear a dress, or they would be whipped. Mags hated the rule, naturally, but she didn't want to get whipped, so she complied.

Soon the four were ready and went down to breakfast. Breakfast was usually very loud, but today it was somber. Nobody felt like talking.

Reaping started at 10, and the entire orphanage population was expected to walk to the Market, mainly because they didn't have the funds to drive them there.

The Market was adjoining the wharf. It was a huge open space where peddlers and fishermen usually gathered to sell their wares.

Mags stood near the back of the roped off area for girls, holding Sarah's hand. Lila stood on her left and Julie stood on her right.

Marcus Herberts stepped up onstage when the Market was pretty much full. Marcus was an ex-peacekeeper who was in charge of District 4 tributes.

Following him came a burly 20-year old, who had won the games two years ago. Mags thought his name was Erik or something. He was the only District 4 kid to ever win the Hunger Games so far.

"Hi, everyone!" Marcus said in an obviously fake happy voice. His face didn't even move with emotion.

"Unless you live under a dock, and I wouldn't put it past you, you'll know we're here today to celebrate the courageous acts of two children in the Seventh Annual Hunger Games!" Marcus muttered.

"But before we pick those two lucky winners, we'll watch the video clip that we played last year and the year before that." Marcus droned with no facial movement.

The way he was treating the Hunger Games like a joke, Mags was surprised President Kind hadn't had him executed on closed circuit television.

Mags didn't really pay attention to the video, they played it every year.

"To switch things up a bit, we'll pick boys first this year." Marcus said in a monotone.

Mags had to give him some credit for trying to make it interesting. All the boys had suddenly become fidgety.

Marcus fished around in the bowl for a couple minutes, until one of the cameramen gave him the stink-eye.

"Hugo Buttery." Marcus called.

A shrimpy kid maybe twelve years old walked shakily up to the podium. He was so pale he looked like he was going to pass out or throw up or something.

"And now the girls." Marcus droned.

He fished around in the bowl for awhile until the camera guy coughed real loud.

"Margaret Cassidy." He muttered.

_Well shit,_ thought Mags.

All of the girls around her were looking around, like _Who's Margaret?_

Wait, they seriously thought her name was _Mags_?

She pushed through them and made her way up to the podium after giving a crying Sarah a hug.

"Was that your sister, Margaret?" Marcus asked, without moving his face. Now that Mags was up close she could see that he had a twitchy eye and he was wearing too much makeup.

"No." Mags said.

Marcus seemed at a loss for words. "Well, uh, I give you the tributes for District Four!" He announced without emotion or facial movement.

District Four clapped politely. Most of them were relieved it wasn't them or their kids.

Mags could see some of the fishermen she was kind of friends with, way in the back. They looked concerned. And Sarah, Lila and Julie were all crying now. She gave them a nice wave, and they all started crying harder.

"Tributes, shake hands." Marcus announced, but he actually put some emotion in it this time.

Hugo looked a little shocked by that, but he extended his pale, clammy, sweaty hand for Mags to shake.

Mags was disgusted by this, but she took the kid's hand between two fingers and shook it back and forth. Did I mention she was taller than him by a whole half a foot?

"It's okay, I wouldn't want to shake his hand either." Marcus muttered with little facial movement.

Hugo turned red.

Marcus and Erik the Victor hurried them off the stage and into an adjacent building Mags recognized as the Justice Building, where all the criminals went to be hanged or something. It was actually quite dirty and depressing.

They ushered Hugo into what looked like a jail cell and Mags into a slightly larger jail cell.

Pretty soon Lila, Julie and Sarah appeared, and each of them had very red, puffy eyes.

"Mags! I can't believe you got picked!" Lila cried, running forward to hug her.

"I can't believe your name isn't Mags!" Julie cried, running forward to hug her as well.

"Mags!" Sarah yelled, running forward to hug her as well.

"You've got to win!" Julie sobbed, burying her face in Mags' shoulder.

"Promise!" Sarah hugged her like a life buoy.

"I promise." Mags sighed, hugging them all back.

Angry Cameraman came in a couple minutes later and told the girls it was time to leave.

After teary goodbyes, Mags sat in her empty, cold, dark, silent cell.

Through the bars of her cage, she could see Hugo's cell. It appeared he didn't have anyone that came and said goodbye to him. For a fleeting moment, she felt almost sorry for him, until he started gnawing the rusty metal bars of his cage.

_Well then_, she thought.

In a few minutes, Marcus, Erik the Victor and Angry Cameraman came to collect them.

Mags and Hugo were led to a waiting car that would take them to the train station, and Mags made sure she sat shotgun, to avoid Hugo.

* * *

When they arrived at the train, Marcus and Erik (whose name was actually just Rick) gave them a quick tour and led them to their compartments, which, to Mags' dismay, were adjacent.

"Dinner is at 6:00 sharp, so don't be late." Rick muttered in a raspy voice that sounded like he either smoked too much or he was an evil villain. Mags was betting on the former, but it still seemed like she was trapped in a sealed container with a bunch of freaks.

Dinner was a silent affair. Hugo was mainly stuffing his face with rolls, but at one point he tried to eat a fork.

Marcus drank wine out of a straw and did nothing else. Rick ate raw steak that gushed blood whenever he cut it into a smaller pieces, and the blood had stained his teeth red.

Mags ate some nice filleted fish. It made her feel at home, because around District Four there was mainly three food choices: fish, fishy bread or fish soup.

At the end of dinner, Hugo made the only attempt at conversation. His mouth was stuffed full of rich Capitol ice cream, so it sounded like a pathetic attempt at fake farting. Bits of ice cream flew everywhere, and suddenly no one else wanted to eat anything.

"Um, could you repeat that, Hugo?" Rick rasped.

Hugo made a huge show out of swallowing his ice cream. "When are we going to get to the Capitol?"

"An excellent question," Rick rasped. "I don't know."

Marcus continued to sip wine out of a straw.

"We get there, when we get there." Rick rasped.

"Alright." Hugo smiled and continued eating his ice cream with a butcher knife.

Shortly after, Mags went to bed, making sure to first lock the door to her compartment and place a heavy cabinet against it.

* * *

In the morning, Rick pounded on her door and told her that they would be arriving at the Capitol in thirty minutes.

She slipped on a tee shirt and a pair of pants she had found in her closet, and a pair of sneakers.

She met Rick and Marcus near the door of the train. Marcus looked very hungover.

"Where's Hugo?" She asked.

"Eh, we'll find him eventually." Rick shrugged. His teeth were still stained pink from his raw, bloody steak.

The train jolted to a stop, and the door slid open to reveal a crowd of screaming people, who in Mags' opinion had terrible fashion sense. Marcus clapped his hands over his ears.

"No! Please! Stop! I drank too much last night!" Marcus cried, tears in his eyes.

"Alright, Margaret, act really happy to see them." Rick muttered, and started to smile and wave to the crowd.

Mags started to do the same.

Then Hugo stumbled outside, in a pair of pink boxers. His eyes were bloodshot, and he obviously hadn't slept last night.

The Capitol stopped cheering and started laughing. They obviously thought this was part of the show.

Marcus, who was sobbing in pain, grabbed Hugo's wrist and dragged him down to a car that was waiting for the four of them. Mags called shotgun again, and the journey to the city center began.

The driver stopped in front of an elegant building fourteen stories tall. Marcus led them into the lobby, and over to a glass box in the middle of the room.

Marcus, who was still sniffling, explained to them what an elevator was, and which floor was theirs. "District *sniffle* Four, Level *sniffle* Four."

He pressed the button for story 4, and soon they were standing in a garishly furnished living room. There was fish paraphernalia everywhere and a very blue shag carpet that felt like you were going to be eaten up by it.

"Just like back home, huh?" Marcus smiled proudly. _No way_, thought Mags.

Rick looked very uncomfortable, but agreed wholeheartedly.

Hugo was picking his nose.

Mags almost cried in desperation.

* * *

Later that night, the four of them were sitting in the living room. Rick, Hugo and Marcus were sitting on the sofa eating TV dinners, but Mags was sitting in a rocking chair eating grilled tuna, which she had ordered from room service.

The TV guy, Fred Failer, was announcing the start of the Seventh Hunger Games. He was talking to his cohost, Bob Bailer, about this year's "interesting crop of tributes". It was how they worded it every year.

Bob smiled wolfishly at the camera. "Well, Fred, let's take a look at District 1 first."

From District 1 there was lanky 15 year old chosen for the girls whose name was Starburst. Mags laughed so hard she almost missed the 8 guys volunteering for the 12 year old that had been picked.

It ended up being this huge burly guy named Bubbles. Mags laughed harder than she had her entire life.

For District 2 there was a nice looking yet slightly pudgy girl whose name was Plaid. The guy was tall yet very skinny and his name was Herman, yet he insisted the announcer call him Hermie.

District 3 had a dark haired girl who was eighteen named Jezelle and a fourteen year old named Ozzie.

Mags watched the filming of District Four very carefully. The editors had edited out the loud coughing to signal Marcus to choose the tributes, and his comment about her handshake with Hugo.

The only other particularly memorable tribute was Andrew, a thirteen year old boy with crazy black hair and a crazy smile. He started chatting up the announcer from District 9 before he could even choose the girl tribute.

"Well, Bob, sure looks like we've got an interesting crop of tributes on our hands this year!" Fred Failer exclaimed.

* * *

**Well, hi guys. This is my first Hunger Games fan fiction so please don't kill me. I tried. Anyway, review if you feel like it. ****I will probably update this once a week, if I have time... (I have finals coming up and all that chizz) Yeah, so have a really nice life and eat some cookies.**

~Maggie


	2. Chapter 2

"What do we do now?" Hugo asked, stuffing rolls and pastries in his mouth.

"First, we go meet your stylists. They happen to be me and Rick. Then we get you dressed for the tribute parade in our original costumes, which, if I do say so myself, are pretty awesome." Marcus patted Rick on the back, but at the same time Rick tried to pat Marcus on the back, so it looked awkward and uncomfortable.

Mags got a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Don't all the other Districts get actual, licensed stylists?"

"No, they gave all the stylists to the kids from Districts 1 and 2 this year." Rick rasped. "But we're pretty creative. I know you'll love your costumes!"

* * *

"What is this!?" Hugo asked as he stepped into the plastic bodysuit. "Is this plastic?"

"Yes! The tribute parade is all about showing off the physical attributes of tributes. So we ordered these inflatable costumes!" Marcus looked pretty proud of himself as he attached the air hose to Hugo's costume.

Soon, an inflated seagull was standing in front of them.

"How does this show off my physical attributes?" Hugo's muffled voice called from in the seagull.

"It shows off your beautiful eyes!" Marcus exclaimed, pointing to the minuscule eyeholes.

Mags thought his eyes were a terrible shade of milky green that looked like mold, but she said nothing and hoped she would be wearing actual clothes.

"You're the matching swordfish!" Marcus exclaimed, holding out another sheet of plastic.

Soon, Mags and Hugo were all dressed up for the tribute parade. "Okay, let's all go down to the lobby. That's where we'll be meeting the other tributes." Rick rasped.

Only, Mags and Hugo could not fit into the elevator.

"You're too big to fit in the elevator!" Marcus exclaimed, as if it wasn't perfectly obvious.

"Oh, no! What will we do?" Rick rasped, looking concerned.

"Let's try the emergency stairs." Marcus said.

That was how Mags became acquainted with the wonderful feeling of going down the fire escape ladder backwards in an inflatable swordfish bodysuit.

* * *

When they arrived in the lobby, they were met with a flurry of activity as the finishing touches were made on the tribute chariots.

Districts 1 and 2 looked fabulous, with pristine clothing and lots of extraneous decorations. Their horses were beautiful black purebred Arabians with glossy manes.

The other districts looked shabby in comparison, but none as shabby as District 4, in dirty, inflatable plastic costumes. Hugo's was half- deflated, and Rick was trying to fix the hole with his spit.

The other district's horses were mine ponies, extremely tough and extremely stubborn and not very nice-looking.

"Okay, kids, you go get on Chariot 4. We're proud of you!" Marcus called as they walked away. Mags almost felt sentimental until he let out an enormous fart.

Everyone in the entire lobby looked his way.

And in looking his way, they looked at Mags. She turned a deep shade of maroon, which no one could see because her face was covered in plastic.

"District 4! Onto your chariot!" Someone in charge yelled.

Hugo and Mags looked at the 'chariot'. It was little more than some pieces of wood tied together with string and glue, with wheels crudely attached. It was four feet long and one foot wide, with no railings or other means of staying on it.

Hugo hopped on it and the pieces of wood groaned under his weight, which, it must be noted, was considerably more than what it had been upon entering the Capitol.

Mags got on more carefully, and as soon as she was on board the person in charge yelled, "Begin the Parade!"

Mags could hear the announcer, Fred Failer, commenting on the "interesting crop of tributes".

"Oh, look at District One! Their clothes gleam with precious gems, and look at that satin dress on the girl from District Two! The beautiful Arabian stallions pull at their bits!"

"Oh, look, it's District Three. Look a bit shabby, don't they? Well, anyway, here comes District Four! They appear to be wearing dirty inflatable bodysuits. Not very flattering. In fact, I've never seen worse costumes in my entire life."

Mags was trying her hardest to stay on the rickety platform/chariot thing. She was waving her inflated fish fins in giant circles. But the scream from behind her meant Hugo was not having as much luck.

She turned around very, very carefully, and faced Hugo, who was holding on by his inflatable seagull wing.

"Hugo, I can't help you! I'm going to have to kick you off!" Mags yelled through the Plastic covering her face.

"Okay! Wait, what?" he yelled back, as Mags brought her foot down on Hugo's inflatable seagull wing.

It exploded, and with it went any hopes of a cushiony landing. But the mine pony was maybe going 5 miles per hour, so it didn't hurt too badly. Hugo got up and ran next to the chariot for five meters until he ran out of breath and stopped in the path of the District Five Chariot, which was considerably more well made than the District Four chariot.

"Ahhhh!" Hugo screamed, and dived out of the way in the scraps of the destroyed inflatable suit.

Soon the mine ponies and Arabian stallions were arranged in a crude half circle around the podium where President Nice would give his speech.

After a few minutes of idle waiting, President Nice's limo arrived.

The fat, short man who climbed out made his way to the podium with a set of index cards which he kept dropping.

"Citizens of Panem! Welcome to the Seventh Annual Hunger Games!" he said in a high, squeaky voice.

"Before we begin, I would like to thank District Twelve for supplying the mine ponies and wood scraps to build Chariots 3 through 12."

"Also, my heartfelt sympathy goes to Howard Buttercup from District 4, who was gravely injured in the parade here tonight, through no fault of his own. His swordfish friend over here basically threw him off the chariot to his doom."

Mags thought he was exaggerating a bit, and judging from the collective gasp from the crowd, they were all blind.

"On that note, let the Games begin, kind of!" President Nice exclaimed.

* * *

Training started the next morning.

Hugo and Mags were woken up early and shipped off to the training room, which was all high tech. It was equipped with an Olympic-sized swimming pool, huge gymnastics/Cirque du Soleil climbing contraption, track, shooting area (equipped with guns, knives, spears, and bows and arrows) and many wilderness survival booths set up at strategic points.

Hugo and Mags were the first ones there, besides some of the instructors and the kids from District 9.

"HI! My name's Andrew! What's yours? This is Adeline! We're friends! Are you friends? I don't think so. I just hugged that lady over there!" The boy, Andrew, said in one breath. While he paused to catch his breath, Adeline interjected.

"Run away while you can. He won't stop for hours."

"Hey, where are you going? Are we friends? I think we are! Do you want a hug? I want to give you a hug!" Andrew chased after Hugo and gave him a huge bearhug.

He turned towards Mags.

Mags coughed into her sleeve. "Sorry, contagious."

"How come I didn't think of that?" Adeline muttered.

Andrew looked sad for a minute, then, "Are you sick? What are you sick with? Is it really contagious? Can I have a sample of your snot?"

Mags ran towards a convenient box of tissues nearby.

"I'LL HUG YOU WHEN YOU GET BETTER, OKAY?" Andrew's voice yelled from across the room.

By the time Mags got back, all the tributes had arrived.

The head instructor person gathered all the tributes in the center of the huge room.

"Hello, everyone, my name is Sauron. I have no relation to the evil ruler of Mordor. My parents were odd. Anyway, this year, we're splitting up the Tributes, based on level of athleticism. You will all be tested and put into groups where you can learn at optimal levels."

"This is the test administrator, Jibbly Jubbly. He'll explain the test to you."

Jibbly Jubbly was a very thin man.

"It's a test." He muttered.

"Thank you, Jibbly Jubbly. Now the first test is running! If you can run a mile in 400 minutes or less, you pass! The second test is swimming. If you can swim from one side of the pool to the other in less than a minute, you pass! Now go!"

The Tributes started running around the track, almost sprinting. But Mags bided her time, waiting for the swimming section.

Hugo was the only other tribute who could swim, apparently. Bubbles from District 1 was so tall he could walk half the pool, until the deep end, when he started floundering and the lifeguard had to pull him out of the water.

Hugo could swim, but he had little stamina, and collapsed in the middle of the pool.

By the time Mags was finishing her mile, all the tributes had been pulled from the pool. She executed a perfect dive into the water, and did the backstroke to the end of the pool. Sauron hit the button on the timer when Mags pulled herself out of the pool, and announced, "30 seconds."

Mags was not offered a towel, even though all the other tributes were wrapped in puffy towels.

"Here are the people who passed: Bubbles,-"

"Call me Bub."

"That's a terrible name!"

"It's better than Bubbles."

"Fine. Bub, Starburst, Hermie and Plaid." Sauron announced. "If I did not call your name, you can follow Jibbly Jubbly to your new training room."

Their new training room was dirty and messy and had no high tech coolness. It was a 12 by 12 square right next to the elevator, so they could hear the elevator every time it went past. There was a bench press in the corner and basically nothing else. Jibbly Jubbly showed them the "training room" and left, leaving 20 kids in a small room with nothing to do.

"This is a failure on the part of the government! Discrimination! I will not be treated in this manner!" screamed one of the kids from District 12.

* * *

I don't really like this chapter, but oh well.

Thanks to everyone who expressed support for my writing skills. :)

~Maggie


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh. My. God. SHUT. UP!" Adeline screamed.

"…and we're gonna eat marshmallows together and watch the sun set and did you know that elephants can fart? I didn't, but then I looked it up and it turns out they can, and I just wanted you to know that because if you didn't, you would look ignorant if an elephant trainer came up to you and asked you if they could fart, and I would be responsible because it was my duty to tell you elephants could fart. Did you know there are 97 different kinds of soap you could use in the shower here? I used every single one of them last night, that's why it took me two hours to shower and my skin got all wrinkly. Do you know why people's skin gets all wrinkly when they shower for too long? Because I asked that mentor dude and he told me to stuff it. Do you know what that means? The other guy said I should just go die in a hole, and I know what that means, but I was just wondering…"

Mags zoned out of Andrew's insanely long monologue. It had barely been thirty minutes since Jibbly Jubbly had left them here, and Andrew had been talking about the oddest things for at least 98% of it.

She thought back on when she had normal friends, whose main topic of conversation had been who their Crush of the Week was, so much so that Mags had convinced them to try and copyright Crush of the Week.

She thought of all the kids in the orphanage who she even barely knew, like the boy in the back of her Foreign Studies class who drooled like a dog when he slept and Matilda, the girl who always wore a huge hat with fake fruit on it.

Instead of the strange but comforting people back home, now she was stuck with a talkaholic, Hugo, who couldn't be described in any other way but creepy, a boy who had anger issues, and 16 other children she had yet to know much about.

Fred, the boy from District twelve, was being physically restrained by his female counterpart to keep him from pounding on the door, more for his safety than the safety of others. Desmond was 15 and barely 5' 2".

"… and then the panda said, 'I love you Andrew! Keep up the good work!' so I smiled at the panda and I said 'I love you too Panda!', and he said, 'Call me Joe!', so me and Joe went looking for the crystal of light and good, and when we found it it was guarded by an evil sorcerer, whose name was Albert, and Albert was really mad because me and Joe weren't supposed to go looking for the crystal of light and good…"

After 3 more hours of Andrew's horrifying Kung Fu Panda-esque dream, Desmond's political opinions, and Hugo's general creepiness, Mags was saved by an unlucky janitor, who got trampled by kids when they all ran for the exit. As Mags got on the elevator she could hear Andrew's voice.

"…it like being a janitor? I think being a janitor would be cool, but anyway, do you want to hear about the time I skinned my knee? It was when I was five…"

Mags walked/ran towards the entrance to the District Four living space so as to outdistance Hugo and not be forced to interact with him, and as soon as she opened the door she found Marcus passed out on the couch, with a half-empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. He was mumbling to himself, and Rick had a tape recorder out and was taping whatever it was Marcus was saying. He shushed Mags and Hugo, and then practically ignored them, giggling to himself now and then, but mainly transfixed in getting blackmail material.

* * *

At dinner, Marcus looked hungover and tired, not speaking to anyone, and Rick had earbuds in, giggling to himself as he listened to something probably highly incriminating about Marcus. Mags made a mental note to keep her door locked at night.

Hugo tried to channel Andrew and start a conversation, but when no one listened he gave up and went to bed.

The next day, Mags was trapped next to Hugo and the kids from District 5 in the elevator. Hugo was staring at his reflection in the mirror, touching his chin as though he were stroking a beard.

The boy from District 5 was playing with his fingernails, and then went to chew one off. Mags looked away in disgust right at the girl from District 5, who was watching her through narrowed eyes, then went to stand REALLY close to the boy, who gave her a weird look but continued to chew his fingernail. The girl then smirked at Mags like she had just beaten her in some kind of life-changing competition.

Mags stared at the ceiling for the rest of the elevator ride.

When the four tributes got downstairs, the boy suggested they try and see if they were allowed into the high-tech training room.

Through the frosted glass on the doors to the training room, they could hear laughing, talking and splashing.

Hugo opened the door a hair and pronounced loudly, "It appears they have acquired swimming lessons!"

"HEY GUYS WHAT WE ARE DOING!" An annoying and loud voice that was all too familiar sounded down the hallway.

"WANNA HEAR ABOUT THE DREAM I HAD LAST NIGHT? So, I was standing on the roof of my school and this girl who kinda looked like Albert the sorcerer from my Joe the Panda dream came up to me and she said 'Make the choice, Andrew! Our lives depend on it!' and I was like cheesburgerzzzzzzzzz and she was like, 'Good choice Andrew! You're so smart!' and I was like-_uhhhh_" Andrew slumped to the floor.

Adeline had knocked Andrew out with a rusty pipe.

The boy from District 5 looked at Andrew with concern. "Do you think he's alive?"

Mags peered at Andrew for a second, and then said, "Yeah, he's breathing."

Adeline pointed to Hugo, whose face was still pressed up against the door. "What's wrong with him?"

"I really have no idea." Mags sighed. "Did you know he likes to eat forks?"

"I do!" Hugo said, with a big creepy stalker smile on his face. "I think the antique ones are the best, some of the newer fork styles just aren't that great, and I absolutely detest the taste of spoon. Knives are OK, as long as they're stainless steel."

He then turned around and continued watching whatever the tributes from Districts One and Two were doing.

The boy from District 5 waved his finger in a circle near his temple, and the girl giggled in a flirtatious manner.

"I'm Ian, and this is Jessie." The boy said, indicating himself and the girl.

"Pleased to meet you." Mags said, holding out her hand for Jessie to shake. Jessie just looked at her disdainfully.

"Pleased to meet you." Mags said, holding out her hand for Ian to shake. He shook it, smiling warmly.

"So, since we have about four more hours to waste, what do you want to do?" Adeline asked.

They left Andrew with Hugo, in case he woke up. Then Mags and her new friends explored the Training Center tower thing. The first floor was the lobby/tribute preparation area, with a secret cafeteria way in the back down 8 hallways and the fifth door to the left.

Ian and Adeline both bought croissants, which were apparently some kind of delicious drug, because they both wasted all their cash and giggled happily when eating them.

The second floor of the Training Center building was the training center(s) and office buildings for a few people.

Jessie had discovered the stairwell on the far side of the compound, and suggested they go see what the view from the penthouse suite was.

When they got to Level 12, they decided to skip breaking and entering and instead just hop up onto the roof. The view was fantastic, and Mags and Adeline and Ian spent the morning talking while Jessie sunbathed.

Eventually, they headed downstairs to their assorted living areas.

* * *

When Mags got back to Level 4, she found Rick and Marcus sharing a bowl of popcorn watching Too-Late Nights with Fred Failer. She glanced at the clock and wondered why it was called Too-Late Nights if it came on at noon.

She shrugged and started to make her way towards the kitchen to make herself a tuna sandwich with lots of mayonnaise.

At approximately two o'clock, Hugo came through the door, wearing his creepy stalker smile, and Mags put her nose just a little farther into her book to make sure he did not attempt to communicate with her.

At approximately two thirty, Marcus turned off the TV and pronounced, "DAMN! I FORGOT THERE'S INTERVIEWS TONIGHT!"

Rick shrugged. "Just send them in regular clothes. We don't have time to order another inflatable costume for Hugo, and they both need to be matching if we do that idea."

Marcus nodded and turned the TV back on, to a rerun of _Daisy's Happy Little Serial Killer Boyfriend Episode 34_. It was actually not a bad show, except that Daisy never finds out about her boyfriend's serial killerness, so she looks really dumb, especially when his face is all over the news during the end of each episode.

* * *

That night at approximately 7 o'clock, Mags and Hugo were ushered downstairs to the waiting limousine.

Mags, unfortunately, was not fast enough to call shotgun and was stuck between Rick and Hugo for the duration of the ride.

When Mags and Hugo were ushered to the waiting line of tributes, she looked down at the simple jeans and t-shirt she had worn, compared to Starburst from District 1's elaborate gown, complete with matching jewelry, handbag, crown, and designer shoes.

She shrugged and took her place in the line, thinking about how Frances the She-Devil would have a conniption if she saw her like this.

Slowly the line grew shorter until Mags was at the front of it. Then a guy that looked an awful lot like Angry Cameraman grabbed Mags' arm and dumped her on the stage, in front of a large live audience, thirty different news crews and, lo and behold, Fred Failer.

"Hullo, Margaret! Come, sit down." Fred patted the seat next to him. Up close, Mags could see he had on too much makeup than was normal for a man, very stinky breath and curly chest hair that was so gross she had to shudder despite herself.

"So, tell us a little about yourself." Fred smiled creepily.

"Um, well, my name's Mags, I'm thirteen, and I grew up in the West Side Orphanage For Girls and Boys in District 4."

"Ah, so you're an orphan. How does that feel?"

"Um… I guess I would feel worse if I knew my parents at all."

"I see. Do you have any special talents or strategies that you feel would be useful in the Arena?"

"No?"

"Are you sure?" Fred leaned in real close so I got a huge whiff of stinking breath.

"Eew, ever heard of a mint?" Mags said before she could control herself.

* * *

Well hi, I was gonna update sooner, but y'know, stuff happens and I lost track of time and then New York State decided that we weren't already drowning in tests and gave us a couple more for good measure.

Anyway, I changed the summary because the other one was shit and if you can think up a better title I will totally worship you.

Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed,

~Maggie


	4. Chapter 4

Mags was quickly ushered off the stage in front of a silent crowd and a twitching Fred Failer.

"What were you thinking?!" Marcus yelled in a shrill voice that echoed through the silent line of kids as they watched her being roughly led off the stage.

Marcus detained her in a chair in the lobby until Hugo finished his interview, which the audience seemed to love.

Marcus was still silent from fury as he ushered them and Rick, who had apparently had been drinking in a local bar because his words were slurred and he waddled, rather than walked, into a waiting car.

Mags was mortified to see the interviews playing on the television mounted on the dashboard. She ducked out of the car quickly when it parked in front of the Training Building only to see it again on a large public screen outside with hordes of people mobbing it, and in the lobby, and in the elevator, and in District Four's bright blue living room.

She sighed and decided to just go to bed instead of face Marcus' or Rick's anger.

* * *

In the morning, she tromped down the stairs, and was immediately confronted with a frowny face sticker on the door of the dining room. It read, "Bad girls don't get breakfast!"

Mags sighed (she seemed to be doing that a lot lately) and made lot of noise, including shoving over the couch on her way to her rocking chair. Then she turned on the TV and turned it up to maximum volume. "-SHOCKING PERFORMANCE LAST NIGHT. HERE IT IS…" The news show cut to high-def footage of her dissing Fred Failer.

"IN OTHER NEWS, WE WILL BE REPORTING THE SCORES OF THE EVALUATIONS TO THE GENERAL PUBLIC AT APPROXIMATELY 7:00 TONIGHT. SEE YOU THEN, NEWS CHANNEL FIVE."

"HAVE YOU EVER WONDERED IF YOU COULD SHUT THAT ANNOYING FRIEND OF YOURS UP? WITH THE AMAZING, BANDAN-AHHHHHHHH! YOU CAN! YOU SIMPLY PLACE THE BANDAN-AHHHHHHHH! OVER THE MOUTH AND IT IMMEDIATELY MUFFLES THE SOUND OF THEIR ANNOYING LAUGHTER, TALKING, OR MEOWING. THIS BESTSELLING ITEM CAN BE YOURS IN THIS SPECIAL TV OFFER FOR ONLY $30.00! A FIFTY CENT VALUE FOR ONLY $30.00! AND IF YOU CALL 454-9078 (Please don't call this number!) RIGHT NOW, YOU COULD HAVE A SECOND BANDAN-AHHHHHHH! FOR FREE! THAT'S RIGHT! A ONE DOLLAR VALUE FOR ONLY $30.00! CALL NOW!"

The screen showed white words against a black background: "The following program may be inappropriate for younger viewers. Children have reported nausea, vomiting, mental scarring and MacRonald's."

"AND WELCOME BACK TO FAST FOOD AND FRENCH KISSING, WHERE EXTREMELY OVERWEIGHT PEOPLE GO ON DATES WITH EACH OTHER AND FRENCH KISS IN BROAD DAYLIGHT! TODAY'S CONTESTANTS ARE KEVINSCHMEVINDEVINBEVIN AND UGLYFRUIT. KEVINSCHMEVINDEVINBEVIN WEIGHS 8931 POUNDS, AND UGLYFRUIT WEIGHS 45739. THEY HAVE BEEN DATING FOR EIGHT DAYS-" Mags shut the TV off as it showed what resembled two whales wrestling and ran to the bathroom where she vomited her guts up.

When she got back, Rick was sitting down in his chair (he had moved it around the couch) and was raising the remote to turn on the TV.

Everything became slow motion as Mags screamed, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOO!" and Rick's finger dramatically pressed the 'on' button.

"-LIKE THREE QUADRUPLE HAMBURGERS, EIGHT LARGE COKES, AND A KIDDIE FRIES. I'M ON A DIET, YOU KNOW-"

Kevinschmevindevinbevin started kissing Uglyfruit on the mouth ferociously. This time, Mags couldn't hold in her disgust and it ended up on the floor.

She wasn't the only one. Rick had one hand pressed against his ear and the other on his mouth. His cheeks were all puffed up and it seemed as if he was trying to get up from his chair but his legs weren't working.

Mags walked on shaky legs to the remote, which had been dropped to the floor. She turned the TV off, relishing the sudden silence.

* * *

Later that night, 5:30, to be exact, Mags and Hugo were ushered to the huge, nicely furnished Training Room for their evaluations. Marcus was still not talking to Mags, although Rick did occasionally throughout the day.

They were dropped off in line next to the District 3 kids, and they could hear Andrew almost rapping as he talked from halfway down the hallway. The kids from 1 and 2 had taken their evaluations already or they were being separated from the rest of the group. Mags guessed it was the latter.

At 5:58 Jibbly Jubbly came to collect the boy from District 3. Mags was now second in line. At 6:05 he got Hugo, and at 6:12 he grabbed Mags roughly by the arm and led her into the evaluation room. Mags was immediately met by President Nice's less than nice glare, and a similar one from the direction of news anchor Fred Failer. Mags immediately knew she would be getting a negative number for her evaluation score.

So she just sat there for seven minutes until Jibbly Jubbly came and got her.

* * *

"News Channel Five proudly presents: _The Hunger Games Hour_ with Fred Failer!"

"As you may know, I was one of the judges today at the evaluations, so I am very proud to present the evaluations scores from this year!"

"Tributes are scored on a scale of one to twelve based on their physical ability and snarkiness. First up we have District One! Bubbles "Bub" Bramblett, with a score of twelve!"

"Next we have Starburst Stevenson, with a score of eleven!"

"From District Two we have Herman "Hermie" Lloyd, with a score of ten!"

"Also from District Two we have Plaid Johanssen also with a score of ten!"

"From District Three we have Oswald "Ozzie" Eaton, who has a score of five!"

"Next up: Jezelle Carter with a score of seven!"

"For District Four this year we have Hugo Buttery, with a score of ten!"

"WHAT?" Mags yelled as Rick and Marcus congratulated Hugo and he just looked smug as he chewed on an antique fork.

"Also from District Four: Margaret Cassidy with a score of negative seven!"

"From District Five we have Ian Semenza-"

"What were you THINKING?" Marcus roared as Mags smiled proudly. It was the first time anyone had ever gotten a negative seven or even a negative number, and she was proud of herself for it.

"I was going to be terrible anyway, Marcus. The whole process is rigged." Mags said in a calm voice.

Marcus snorted and flopped back down on the couch.

"-Nine we have Andrew Strohmaier, with a score of one!"

"See? Even the talkaholic placed better than you!" Marcus hissed, turning off the TV again and storming off to his bedroom.

* * *

The next morning, Mags was woken up by loud noises coming from the living room.

She opened the door to her bedroom and peeked down the hall. Marcus was watching a replay of last year's bloodbath. The cannon was booming almost constantly, which was what had woke her up.

Mags remembered last year's Hunger Games very well. The tributes from Districts 1 and 2 had teamed up and had slaughtered almost everyone else. Only two kids besides them had escaped the bloodbath alive, one with a huge gash in his leg because he had tripped on a log, and the other a somewhat mediocre kid that no one really liked.

The kid with the gash on his leg didn't ever wash the wound out and it quickly became sterile. He died before the District 1 and 2 kids could ever find him.

Then they wasted three days trying to find the mediocre kid before realizing they could move it along quicker if they killed themselves instead. The last man standing was actually a girl named Crystal who ended up killing the mediocre kid, too, after she found him hiding in a bag of apples.

But thinking about the Hunger Games made Mags sick to her stomach, because the poor mediocre kid could be her tomorrow. Tomorrow!

Today was the last day of training, and then Mags would be left to die a terrible death alone in the woods somewhere, if the terrain was woods this year. So far the Gamemaker people hadn't shown the smarts to change the generic Hunger Games in the woods theme.

She doubted Rick or Marcus were going to give her any training on her last day in the Capitol, since for the past four days they had mainly been drunk or angry and thus, no help at all.

So she was alone to wallow in self-pity and the thought that she really _was_ a little too young to die.

After she had made herself some breakfast, she sat on a balcony overlooking the Capitol's busiest street, Plate Popule Stulte. The people who named it had gone all-out fancy and made it Latin for good measure. Urban legend had it that the name actually meant, "Street of the Stupid People", but no one knew for sure.

Right now it was morning rush hour, and everyone was rushing to make sure they got to their appointments on time. No one in the Capitol was actually going to work today, or probably in their lives.

Presently, there was a knock on the sliding glass door behind Mags. It was Rick.

"Marcus wants to see you." He rasped, and stood back to let Mags pass. She found Marcus in the living room.

He was sitting with Hugo, but he didn't appear to be talking until Mags sat across from them.

"I know I've been a rather bad mentor this year," He began, and at this Mags snorted. He glared at her, and then continued. "I know this is a very important time in your young lives, and it is important to me that you understand I'm here to give you any advice you need."

Mags was a little shocked by the niceness of his gesture.

"After all, I know everything there is to know about drinking alcohol. I would start off with some light beers, just to get you acquainted to the taste and everything. Then I would start the hard liquor about-" Mags got up and left in the middle of his rant. Hugo, of course, was listening raptly with a forgotten fork hanging out the side of his mouth.

_One more day of this crazy_, she thought.

* * *

**Uh, hi? I'm back? Wow, I haven't updated in like eight years, but I'll try harder next time... I think?**

**Anyway, next chapter is when the Hunger Games starts, which is what I've been looking forward to writing all along because I get to kill people! :D**

**Is anyone else excited for Catching Fire? I am! YAY! MAGS! **

**See you guys when I decide to update next time!**

**~Maggie**


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